Across the vast convolution of worlds—the intricate weave of countless universes—there exist gods, each entrusted with a single universe to rule. In such an arrangement, skirmishes are inevitable—whether born of ambition, selfishness, amusement, or sheer pettiness.

Elliot’s unfortunate soul was caught in one such clash, a collision of divine wills that tore him from his life and thrust him into reincarnation… in a foreign land. A lost world. A world with no god to oversee it—for reasons best left unspoken.

Ul’Tra-el.

Unlike other realms, Ul’Tra-el had birthed its own will. A disturbance in its reality had once ripped open rifts in its space, and in response, the world forged a voice to protect itself. That voice, in turn, bestowed its denizens with strange powers known as Talents.

It was into this dangerous, self-willed world that Elliot was reborn—reborn as Northern. A man who should never have set foot here.

Worse still, Northern was born without a single Talent. Yet, through what might be called a golden finger—a gift from the god Nexus—he received something else: a peculiar system that allowed him to copy the abilities of others… and even evolve them.

But in a place like Ul’Tra-el, would such a gift prove to be a blessing… or a cursed shackle?

In a world deemed an aberration, Northern vows to rise above all—until he stands as the solitary peak that all others must look up to.
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[Author’s Note]
The main character may come across as irritating in the early chapters—but this is deliberate. His flaws are part of the journey, and his growth is worth the wait. So, embrace the mishaps, endure the rough edges, and let Northern grow on you despite his imperfections.

"Sense? I'm sorry, you're so mistaken. Sense is the one thing I don't have." 


He paused for a moment, deliberately staring down the man. 


"Which is why all the nonsense you've been spouting really is beginning to piss me off. Look, I don't even care if you ate your wife and her mother—I just want you to get the hell away from my world. Now, you've got me thinking: is there a peaceful way this can be done? Or do we do this the hard way?" 


Kryos smiled, but his eyes remained cold as winter stones. 


For a moment, he said nothing and just kept that eerie smile fixed on Northern. 


A few seconds crawled by, making the air between them grow thick and suffocating. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet enough to make the wind seem like a roar. 


He paused and examined his hand, counting fingers. Then he looked up at Northern. 


Chapter 1069 - The Way Barbarians Fight